


Forget Me Not

by Townycod13



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, M/M, Supernatural stuff happens, aged-up, i want him to get more screentime, lots of david because i like him ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-10 13:16:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13502296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: When it starts, no one notices, but slowly the pieces get lost.





	1. Chapter 1

It started with Gregory.

Kyle rarely talked to the guy and outside of the vague friendship the Mormon boy held with Stan, Kyle knew next to nothing about Gregory.

Still, the distance in their relationship didn't stop it from being any less embarrassing when Stan kindly reminded him that Gregory was in fact named Gary.

It was embarrassing, a repeated and mortifying mistake that he hadn't self-corrected, but at least the names were similar enough that most people understood.

Gary, the kind and forgiving sort, had given Kyle a half grin and shrug while saying 'those g names will get you every time, too many of them I'd say'.

It was supposed to be a joke to lighten Kyle's clearly diminished mood. Kyle knew that, aside from those with clear ill-intentions, he would never hold such a minor mistake against someone else. He would never hold it against someone else.

It was an absolute misfortune that Kyle did not hold himself to those same standards and wasn't quite able to forgive himself for the mistake.

\--

Kevin Stoley. A nondescript boy with a few nerdy interests and a general distance from the drama that seemed to generate around Kyle and his friends.

They did have a few classes together though and Kyle liked the kid well enough.

One of those classes was chemistry and barely supervised experiments were a particular specialty of South Park High. The day in question was a race to determine who could create the biggest explosion in the shortest amount of time. If one were to ask any of the involved parties why a class of 20 or so students were all collectively convinced this was a good plan, one needs to look no farther than to note that Eric Cartman was also in attendance.

"Hey, Clyde, could you pass me the chloric acid?" Kyle motioned with his hand hurriedly, eyes focused on the prize of getting one over his nemesis.

Kevin didn't miss a beat, "I'm Kevin."

Kyle turned to his partner, momentarily startled, "No, you're Clyde."

It didn't even take long enough for the confusing sentiment to route itself in Kevin's mind before Kyle was shaking his head in confusion, stress clearly playing its part in the mistake, "Sorry, no, you're right, don't know why I said that, sorry Kevin--um," the competition curbed quite a bit of Kyle's embarrassment, "Could you pass the acid, please?"

They never really had the time to discuss it further because moments later Kenny's team yelped for cover and the class all leapt away from their experiments as the first explosion set off a chain reaction.

In the disaster area that was a classroom, the boys cheered, all thoughts of tiny mistakes forgotten in the wake of how _cool_ that had been.

\--

It happened more often after winter break.

Kyle had visited some family in Jersey and come back barely tamping down a bad attitude, so a lot of people initially assumed he was trying to be mean or funny. Maybe it was some weird Jersey joke that he thought was cool.

Regardless, Eric Cartman had never been more offended in his entire life when more than a month into Kyle's 'joke', he'd finally turned it on him.

"Goddamnit Stotch! Why are you such a fucking asshole?! Can't you see no one here wants to hear you talk about the consistency of your shit?!"

Butters looked rather uncomfortable and even flinched but it couldn't have been more obvious who Kyle was actually talking to.

Cartman gaped in complete disbelief, "What the fuck did you call me, jewboy?"

"I called you an asshole, because that's what you ar--"

From there, tempers only flared further until a drama had been built up so high that the name calling was over-shadowed by the 'I can say what I want' movement and the 'don't talk about literal shit while people are eating' movement.

Butters still found it distinctly uncomfortable to hear his family name called with such contempt. It didn't sound like a joke to him. Gosh, he'd only ever heard Kyle use that tone with Cartman... he supposed he ought to forgive Kyle though, he probably hadn't meant it as an insult.

Golly, he didn't think he'd ever want to visit Jersey, he'd never be able to understand the humor there.

\--

"Look, Wendy, I need you to trust me on this one. I know you don't like getting involved in my movements, but Bebe needs to be stopped."

Stan pinched his nose, "Okay, you are the one that seriously needs to stop."

The confusion painted over Kyle's expression was almost immediately overshadowed with indignation, "Don't tell me you agree with the fattass?!"

"No, not that," Stan hated dealing with shit like this, it always got way out of hand, "I'm talking about that weird Jersey joke. Everyone's sick of it. It's not funny. It's never been funny."

"What are you talking about?" Kyle looked genuinely perplexed, "What Jersey joke?"

Stan groaned, he was going to be difficult. Fine, but Stan was going to make his point. He was sick of this.

"Stop calling me 'Wendy'. And stop calling Wendy 'Jason' for that matter."

"...but Wendy is your name?" Kyle paused and the look of near terror on his face suddenly had Stan questioning his preconceptions about the conversation, "Wait--no, your name isn't Wendy..."

"No shit." Stan couldn't help it, he opened his mouth to firmly assert himself but the now alarmed Kyle held up a hand.

"No--don't tell me, please don't tell me." he looked panicked, near tears, "You're--"

Suddenly all agitation left Stan. This wasn't a joke.

It hadn't been a joke.

"Kevin? No, no... Jimmy? You're," tears were now prickling around the young adults terrified eyes, "--my best friend, since childhood, we've always been together, I know you as well as I know myself. You play football and you have a girlfriend and you wear a blue hat and..." Kyle gasped for air completely panicked.

Stan felt the panic too. It grew to an especially deep level when Kyle's terror filled green locked onto his, "What's your name?"

\--

It felt foolish now, months, it had been months since Kyle had shown the first signs of something being wrong. His own brother had shrugged off the confused name as brotherly teasing.

Everyone had a reason why they never thought anything of it.

Months was, as it turned out, months too many.

Whatever damage had been done to Kyle was now here to stay, all known treatments and therapy usually implemented when the stages were still early.

Not when he'd reached the stage of looking his own mother in the face and struggling to find her name.

It was lucky, if one could call it that, that the condition only seemed to affect names. He could list off everyone in town, their qualities, what built them up to who they were, and the relationships they held with him, just not their names.

Or at least, that's what everyone thought.

There were some hopes, currently, that treatment could mitigate the problem somewhat. Reversal might be too much to ask for but they could try to slow it down.

It was important to focus on the prize and never give up, so Kyle tried to think positively and continue living as if nothing was wrong. He could avoid using peoples names.

If it was just names, maybe it wouldn't be so bad, names were ultimately meaningless. It was the person behind the name that mattered and Kyle could remember that just fine. He had to keep reminding himself that the names he thought were correct were misfires in his brain.

No matter how convinced he was that the funny boy in his homeroom on crutches was named Eric, he was wrong.

It was hard to tell yourself that you were wrong everyday.

It worried him about homework and he had to make Wendy--Stan?--Butters----his smart friend, the one who's parents owned a restaurant, look over his homework sometimes, just to make sure he didn't confuse something other than a name.

Restaurant friend was a good friend too. He'd come over and spend all afternoon studying with tacos at the ready and there weren't as many looks of pity. Restaurant friend knew what pity ultimately felt like so he didn't offer it.

Kyle liked that.

It made it hard, sometimes, to hang out with Bebe-----childhood friend, blue hat, embarrassing dad, because there was a lot of sympathy in his soul. He didn't quite understand why sympathy could be pity and pity could hurt.

Kyle knew he didn't mean it though. He was determined not to lose his friends over this. No matter how much it sometimes hurt. No matter how terrified he was that whatever was causing his memory confusion would attack more than just names next.

\--

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask for awhile, but who's that kid over there? Is he new?"

David looked up from his book, he wasn't going to finish the chapter today either. He was on day 6 of Kyle asking him random questions. He understood, he really did, it must be terrifying for the guy that he thought he was losing his mind. And he understood it might be harder for Kyle to ask someone he'd known for longer.

Kyle had always been a good pal so he was trying to be patient, but really, at this rate he was never going figure out if Tiffany defeats the Wintersmith or not.

Friends were more important, he supposed, "Who do you mean?"

Kyle lifted a finger to point at the lounging orange figure across the cafeteria, no lunch in sight but a look of content on his face, "Orange jacket, blond hair, looks a little rough around the edges."

Now David's full attention was snapped out of the fantasy novel he'd been indulging in. This was it. What Kyle had been fearing. What others had been too.

He found himself at a loss for words. What could he say? How could he explain? Why wasn't Stan here? Or anyone that Kyle was closer to. Maybe not the boy across the hall though.

Oh god, what could he possibly say?

Kyle's face fell at David's hesitation and he knew some of his panic had shown, he thought a lifetime of the service industry would give him a better poker face but no such luck apparently.

"I know him, don't I?"

David wondered how it was possible for his mouth to feel so dry, deciding speaking was a risk, he just nodded.

Kyle's eyes fell to his place, looking as though he was steeling himself for a painful reality to come. David really wished Stan would hurry back from... wherever he went, David hadn't paid attention, he'd been absorbed in his book.

Damnit, he'd been absorbed in his book. It's not like he could have done anything to stop this but he still felt the guilt gnaw at him.

Kyle's quiet voice finally broke the drowned silence.

"How well?"

That was hard to say, but David was well aware of what the question really meant. There was a difference between a close friend and a classmate you'd never spoken to more than once or twice.

"Well."

And, David thought, you liked him too.

He decided to keep that part to himself.

It was a secret Kyle had told him before all this nonsense had even cropped up, one that had been buried in the drama. Kyle hadn't come out and David had. Kyle freaked out over liking his close friend, talked David's ear off more time then he could count about the boy, the thought brought the horrible realization to David's mind.

He now knew Kenny McCormick better than Kyle did because of the condition.

The thought made him nauseous.

This wasn't the sort of thing that was supposed to happen. Kyle was a nice kid. He had a bright future ahead of him. He was...

He wasn't supposed to slowly lose important things, not like this, not...

Stan chose that moment to turn up, cheerful as ever, "Hey guys, what'd I miss?"

\--

They upped his dosage. They increased the intensity of the therapy. Kyle was pushing back with every bit he had. He started writing profiles of everyone he knew. Physical descriptions, names if he could convince someone to help him, memories, personality aspects. He had notebook upon notebook filled to the brim.

He had them organized by importance. His family, his closest friends, and so on. He started attaching pictures for some, just in case.

The doctors tried to find the reason for it. They had told him that the damage to his brain should have been limited to areas related to names. They'd told him he shouldn't forget people.

They'd been wrong. They didn't want to show how panicked that made them but Kyle saw it anyway. It was the same subdued panic he saw in his reflection every morning.

The orange boy that he'd forgotten wasn't in his notebooks yet.

Thus far, so far as he could tell from talking to childhood friend blue hat, orange boy was the only person he had forgotten. He'd asked childhood friend and restaurant friend to keep it a secret, for now.

He wanted to talk to orange boy on his own. Explain things.

His family knew but thus far no one else was aware of the dangerous progression.

Childhood friend explained that orange boy had been there for much of his early therapy, that they were also close childhood friends. Kenny--orange boy had been there for him every step of the way.

"That's the kind of guy he is, ya know? He can be a total ass, but if you need help he's really dependable." childhood friend smiled, a little sadly, "He's been really busy with work lately though, so you haven't seen him as much in the passed two weeks."

Two weeks. He assumed it was something more like one week, that was around the time he started wondering if there was a new kid no one told him about. One that he'd held back asking about for this exact fear.

Apparently that was all it took for him to completely forget a close friend.

It made him sick to his stomach.

A part of him wanted to see if he could pretend this wasn't happening. Maybe orange boy never had to know. Maybe he could pull off pretending he wasn't quite literally losing his mind.

He wondered if he could pull that off with childhood friend and realized the futility of it. There was no way he could pretend the history between the two of them. And if orange boy was as close as people were saying, it would be equally impossible.

\--

Stan was being weird.

Well, everyone was being a little weird ever since Kyle had come down with his 'condition', but Stan had been extra dodgy recently. Also uncharacteristically nice.

It wasn't that Kenny didn't appreciate it, he enjoyed being spoiled from time to time, and it had been a difficult few weeks. First he dies from a paper cut, _a freaking paper cut of all things_ , doesn't come back until a week later and by the time he gets back he's lost his job. Not to mention a few reports and tests that did actually weigh on his final grades.

He wasn't an overachiever by any means but he needed to at least graduate. It was hard getting by without a high school diploma in the working world, it would be harder when he was older as well, and he couldn't afford to waste any more time in meaningless schooling than necessary.

For not the first time, he considered gathering some of his hard-earned savings to quit high school and just take the CSAP. The only hesitation he had there was the knowledge that if he failed the exam it was money down the toilet.

He had too many bills for that.

He'd spent the best part of his time since reviving begging teachers to let him re-test and applying to new jobs, taking up double-shifts at the only job that would never fire him... even if he was still, to this day, known as Dennis on his paychecks. When he found time to rest, he ended up collapsed from exhaustion.

There was a part of him that wanted to check up on Kyle but the boy was a worrywart. One look at the bags under Kenny's eyes and he might make a huge fuss of it. If anyone needed care right now, it was Kyle.

Besides, his old friend seemed to be doing rather well lately. He could take some time to get his shit together while Stan and David took a turn helping out. Maybe he'd talk some others to offer extra support while he was at it.

And then Stan started acting weird.

Buying him lunch (much appreciated, Kenny had stopped buying himself food three days prior), asking about his work, being overly attentive in ways that Kenny thought the guy reserved for his girlfriend.

It was too late that he realized why it reminded him so much of Stan's treatment of Wendy.

Overcompensation, thy name is Stan Marsh.

Too late, too late, why didn't he think about it more? What sort of rose-colored existence was he living in that he thought Stan was just suddenly a better friend?

He knew it before anyone said a word.

In the privacy of Kyle's bedroom, where Stan had led him with a strained smile, where Kyle sat trying not to look guilty. Where Ike eyed him with a solemn knowing that would haunt him for awhile.

Kyle's words, something that Kenny usually hung onto and locked away into his own memories, were foggy and distant. Kenny could understand enough of it to know--

To _know_.

But he wouldn't be able to repeat a word of it. It was all gone in the fog.

He tried so hard to smile comfortingly. It wasn't Kyle's fault.

It wasn't anyone's fault.

It was everyone's fault.

No one had notice till too late. Kenny included.

"I understand, it's okay."

He heard his own voice, gentle and calm, but he couldn't recall thinking of the words or even speaking them.

Ah, disassociation. That was what Kyle had told him he was prone to. When it became too much for him to handle, everything just kind of numbed and his body worked on autopilot.

Good.

He didn't know what he would be feeling if he allowed himself emotion.

He didn't want to know.


	2. Chapter 2

"Alright, next question, what's your favorite color?"

Kenny was really starting to hate that notebook. Another week of this and he was burning it.

It seemed that Kyle's solution for the problem was simply to write everything down. If he couldn't remember his friend he'd just make sure the memories were recorded. It hadn't been so bad, at first, just a few simple questions, the hesitant request for a picture, and some basic information like 'how did we meet' and the most important question of all 'how do you feel about the fatass?'.

Normal Kyle would understand the complexity that was required to answer that. This Kyle didn't remember one bit of the complex history between himself and Cartman. Kenny had settled with a simple 'I could name people I like better'.

That seemed to satisfy him and he'd jotted it down with enthusiasm and determination.

The trouble now was Kyle seemed determined to know _everything_ about him. Kyle hadn't known everything about him even with all his memories intact.

Kenny found it kind of weird that Kyle hadn't asked his name. He supposed it was ultimately useless information with consideration to the condition, but if you're writing everything else about a person...

"Green," Kenny said finally.

Kyle looked surprised, "Green?"

Kenny quirked a brow, it wasn't an important question and honestly, he really doubted Kyle had even known the answer to it, "Yeah, what's up?"

Pen on paper, he pointedly looked at the bright orange parka and then back up at the owners face, "Nothing, just... surprised." he looked a little embarrassed, "I've been thinking of you as 'orange boy' because, you know," he did, "and now I feel like I chose the wrong color."

Kenny laughed, "So should I be green boy now?"

Kyle scrunched his nose, "I don't think the color would suit you, to be honest."

He gasped in mock offense, "Are you suggesting I wouldn't look stunning in any color? How could you? My heart is breaking here, my fragile ego can't handle this kind of abuse," he mimed a single tear dropping.

Kyle rolled his eyes, half a smile nudging its way in, "Alright, I'll just jot down 'terminally not funny' and 'can't act' for future reference."

"What have I ever done to deserve such cruelty and ridicule?" Kenny was going to get a giggle if it killed him.

He was aware that it might, with consideration to his own condition.

The smile grew a little, "Drama queen too, huh, I wouldn't have thunk it."

Kenny grinned, he could use that, "Oh no you didn't, talking about me like that, don't you know I'm, like, the best thing ever. I should just like totally tell everyone that you're like, the _worst_ , and oh my _god_ , would you look at your pen? It's, like, _so_ last spring! O! M! G! My _hair is just terrible today_! I'm going to, like, just _die_."

By the time he was about halfway through his act, Kyle had entirely dissolved into laughter.

"Holy shit dude, how do you do that with your voice?" Kyle gasped out between giggles.

"Oh, like, _this_? I'm just, ya know, like, talented I guess." Kenny switched tones, enjoying being able to show off his voice talents, "It is a skill passed down from my royal heritage, I implore you as my subject to cease with your interrogation." he decided to drop the girly tones all together and went for a deep super hero growl, "Or you'll fucking find out how talented I am."

Three easy and well practiced voices that Kyle had heard before a dozen times over. Now they had the boy nearly dying of laughter.

Kenny didn't know if he felt satisfied or depressed.

He settled for snatching the notebook from inattentive hands and pulling out a pencil to start writing out his own ideas before Kyle could intercept him.

He got _roguishly handsome_ , _sexy af_ , and _literally gods gift to men and women alike_ before Kyle managed to wrench his notebook back.

Kenny felt the disbelieving scoffs at his handiwork were well worth the thwacking Kyle had given him. He also enjoyed that the other boy made no apparent effort to erase Kenny's words.

\-- 

Kenny was at work.

David kinda hated him a little bit.

Somewhere along the way, the tragedy of forgetting about McCormick had helped to mitigate some of Kyle's depression and fear. He had a goal and Kyle always seemed to work best with a goal.

He could turn off his emotions and focus on it whole-heartedly. David couldn't say the notebooks were exactly healthy but it'd been months since he'd seen Kyle so enthusiastic.

Kenny was at work and David was not. Stan was present but texting like his life depended on it. Considering all the weird shit that happened in South Park all the time, David wouldn't be at all surprised if that was the case.

That left him, with his book, and Kyle with his notebook.

And Kyle wanted new content for the now pages long Kenny section.

"So, uh, what do you think of him?"

David didn't need him to specify who, he wanted Stan to answer but the boy was far too absorbed in whatever phone emergency was occurring, he closed his book knowing what a lost cause it was to try and proceed.

Sure, Roland was only rescuing summer from the underworld, that wasn't dramatic or anything. It could wait until he'd satisfied Kyle's curiosity. He had to literally bite back the sarcasm before it escaped.

"Uhh... nice guy? A bit on the perverted side, I'd say."

Kyle looked taken aback, "Really?"

David's eyebrows knit together and he really wished Stan would come and support his statement, "I mean, not in a bad way? Just has a bit of a preoccupation with, um, the chest area on women sometimes?"

Somehow Kyle deflated a little, "Oh..."

Finally Stan piped up, seeming done with his mobile adversary, "And butts. Butts too."

Real helpful contribution there, Stan. David rolled his eyes.

Kyle tapped something in his notebook thoughtfully, clearly trying to figure out how to word something without giving away his intentions.

"He hasn't been--I mean, so does that mean he has a girlfriend?"

Ah, David caught on and suddenly wished Stan was still texting.

"I mean, no, but he's," Stan laughed and David took the opportunity to pipe in before Stan could get into the blonds sordid dating history. Depressed Kyle was not a Kyle that let him get back to his book.

"He's not dating anyone right now, girls or boys, focusing on work."

There, that should answer Kyle's question and hopefully Stan would take the hint.

"Thank god for that, god, remember that one time he--"

David was going to literally kill Stan Marsh.

It was Kyle that cut into Stan's sentence, something bubbling out of him before he could contain it, "So he's bi?"

Stan shrugged, miffed at getting cut off, "I guess? Never asked him but genders never been an issue so far as I can tell."

Kyle happily jotted that down in his notebook and David practically let out a sigh of relief.

That is until Stan decided that now it was safe to explain _all_ about why he was happy about Kenny's current celibacy.

Great, guess Roland and the feegles were just going to get eaten in the underworld while Kyle re-learned to hate his taste in men. David was not looking forward to reliving that conversation. (' _why do I like someone that doesn't treat relationships seriously? what if I confess to him and he says yes but treats me like a fling? what if I confess and he says no even though he's said yes to virtually everyone else? what if--_ ') David shuddered at the memory and cursed Stan Marsh.

\--

"Okay, what's your family like?"

Orange boy stiffened. Not noticeably. Kyle felt like he would have missed it entirely if he didn't spend so much time looking at the boy. Trying to relearn an entire history with another person was probably an impossible task, but Kyle was determined to succeed.

As such he'd started to notice little tells that orange boy had.

He almost wanted to retract the question but curiosity drove him forward.

Orange boy smiled easily though and answered as if the question didn't disturb him, "My little sister is probably my best friend. Always can depend on her to kick my ass into shape. My older brother moved out awhile back and he visits on holidays when time allows. My parents are a lively pair, lots of energy."

He was smiling as he said it all and didn't pause once in the description. That didn't stop him from feeling troubled. Orange boy had genuine affection in his voice when he started, clearly he was proud of his sister, and the affection was still there at the end but...

It just sounded like a shadow of it. Like he'd started with his sister so that the enthusiasm could drizzle down to the rest and sound more genuine.

Kyle shook off the feeling, the blond had no reason to lie and maybe he'd just had a fight with his parents recently.

Teenagers tended to hold disdain for figures of authority, he was thinking too much. Ke--orange boy didn't seem like the type but books and covers.

Instead he decided on a follow up question, "How old is your little sister?"

Orange boy _beamed_ , "She's fourteen now, she's actually in some of those advanced classes already, she has a real passion for learning! She's already way smarter than I am."

Kyle chuckled, "I know the feeling, my brother is already way ahead of me. I swear he's going to be in his second year of uni before I even graduate."

"Well, if he ever decides to try skipping a grade again." orange boy laughed at the memory.

There. That caused a pause. It occurred to him that maybe this wasn't going to work.

Getting to know orange boy like this. He was trying to write down a history he had no recollection of but...

It disturbed him, this stranger knew things about his brother that he'd never mentioned.

It was unnerving, being around someone that knew you when they just looked like a stranger.

For the first time Kyle really questioned whether it was a good idea to do this.

Maybe he shouldn't have approached this guy. It's disturbing. It's unpleasant. Why does he know these things? Kyle knew why but it didn't make him feel better.

It just burned in his mind that he could remember an entire memorable event in his life, from beginning to end, and not remember a boy that had apparently been there the entire time. 

He hated it.

"Kyle? Are you okay?"

Kyle tried to shake off the negative thoughts but he knew he had a terrible poker face, "Nothing. Just thinking."

Orange boy's smile was concerned but he didn't pursue further, just patted his friends shoulder in a comforting way.

He liked that. If he needed to talk more he could. If he wanted to keep it to himself, that was fine too.

He felt miserable at that knowledge too.

\--

Eric Cartman had a bone to pick.

Kyle had some dumb unexplainable illness that had everyone treating him with baby gloves. Eric knew better. Eric knew this had to be some strange tricky jew thing.

He had been making attempts to get to the bottom of it for ages now but kept facing interference. Everyone kept saying to give Kyle his space.

If they thought he could be stopped so easily, they had no idea of the greatness he was capable of.

Still, mundane things got in the way, Butters had talked him into a video game tournament. Heidi had shown up to give him a stern talking to about explosions, resulting in an on-again-off-again fight. Stan had given him a Terrance & Philip bluray and insisted they have a marathon.

Distractions. All of them. Who did they think he was? Some easily distracted child? He was a mastermind. He would get to the bottom of the jewrats plans.

He would bide his time, let them think they had the upper hand, and _then_ he would strike! Kyle might think his plan was working, but he had another thing coming.

First he was going to enjoy the vacation his mom just won. What were the chances? A two week cruise? His mother didn't even remember applying for the prize. Eric knew exactly why and how.

The world loved him, plain and simple. He was finally getting the respect he deserved. He'd go on this all-expense paid cruise with his mom and _then_ wreak vengeance upon his tricky foe.

He would leave the jew a note though. Let him stew in his treacherous juices while Eric relaxed in the sun.

Truly, he was an unparalleled genius.

\--

David wondered if he should just invest in audiobooks. He liked reading but what with work, homework, Kyle's current crisis, and school he still had no idea what was going to happen to Tiffany now that the Wintersmith had captured her.

It wasn't even that long a book. 

"Okay, but what does it mean?!"

Kyle was pacing up and down the living room floor waving a paper around wildly, at this rate David was going to have to charge him for damages if he wore a hole through it.

The note read simply 'I know your secret. I'm onto you.' in times new roman text. Kyle had rushed over as soon as he'd found it in his textbook.

The boy had only one, maybe two, secrets at the moment and both of them were ones that David was unfortunately privy to.

"I mean, does it mean someone noticed I don't like girls? Or is it something else? Or is the note meant for someone else? Is it just a prank?"

The pacing increased with his rapid fire questions and considering Kyle's thoughts now appearing to circle, David wondered if he could sneak in a page or two of reading between the tirade.

No good, Kyle would notice and get pissy. David sighed.

"It's probably just a prank, dude."

Kyle whirled, "But what if it isn't?!"

"Well, do you have any other secrets other than your sexuality?"

There was a shuffling of feet, "Not... particularly..."

David sighed, he was going to regret this, but it was better to get it out instead of letting Kyle stew on it forever.

"Is this about..." what the hell was it that Kyle was calling him now? "Orange boy, blond hair, blue eyes?"

Kyle's eyes snapped to attention, face reddening, "N-no," David kept his stare even, "...maybe."

David sighed, it was a good a time as ever to come clean, "Look, I already know you like him. You told me before," awkward pause, "everything. I didn't mention it sooner because I thought it might stress you out more. Looks like it's stressing you out regardless."

Kyle's mouth opened twice before he put together a response. If David had to guess, once was him calming down an initially harsh response, and twice was calming down an even more irritated response. The third and winner was a groan of frustration as Kyle conceded to the logic behind the action.

"You still should have told me." he pouted.

"Sorry man, I will totally be sure to mention it next time."

The joke was so utterly and completely tasteless they both ended up laughing.

\--

Craig--Jimmy--Shelly?--Kyle ground his teeth, reminding himself not to try for names. He knew he was wrong, it was senseless to try to force the issue. Childhood friend was staring at him with that sort of deadpan that he reserved for dumb stuff.

Kyle glared back.

It didn't matter how much childhood friend thought he was over-reacting to the note. They could at least have a serious conversation about it.

"Look," pinching his nose and restraining a groan, "I'm just saying, do you even _have_ any secrets?"

"Well--no, but--"

Shel--childhood friend held up his hands in a 'you just proved my point' gesture.

"If you don't have a secret then the sender is full of shit, so just ignore them."

Kyle gave a hard look to the note placed on the table between them. The piping hot and too strong coffee he'd just ordered sitting next to it.

Anxiety boy was shooting him looks from across the coffee shop, a half concerned look that told Kyle that the kid (like everyone else in town) knew about the condition but wasn't a close enough friend to feel comfortable asking Kyle about it.

Oh, but how people itched to. It was Kyle's new pet-peeve.

This entire meeting was turning into a far more agitating one than he'd thought.

"Look, maybe I have like, one or two secrets."

Childhood friend was nonplussed, "Uh-huh."

"I do!"

"Okay, a secret that you haven't told me about then."

Kye flushed, "I don't tell you everything!"

Childhood friend looked curious for the first time in the conversation, "Huh, well, is it a dangerous secret?"

Kyle thought about that.

It wasn't, he knew it wasn't. His sexuality was only a secret because he wasn't sure how comfortable he himself was with it yet. He only needed to think about anxiety boy who was still shooting him nervous looks to know how weirdly positive everyone in town was about the issue.

They'd even calmed down about it a little bit, by the time restaurant friend had started going out with boys hardly anyone gave him money in response. The girls probably helped matters along with their 'fanart'.

Kyle shuddered at that. He did _not_ want to be depicted in any of those pictures. That was probably one of his biggest hang-ups on the matter.

It wasn't dangerous, just personal.

Kyle sighed, "No... I just, would prefer if some anonymous asshole didn't scream it from the rooftops is all."

Childhood friend nodded, he could understand that at least.

He could barely consider his crush on Ke--orange boy a secret either. Sure, he definitely didn't want anyone knowing, but that was because it was hard to piece together such a strong fondness for a stranger.

"So, do I get to know this big-but-not-dangerous secret?" childhood friend was a little curious after all.

Kyle shook his head, "Maybe some other time, dude. Everything is confusing enough right now as it is."

\--

"Alright, I've almost finished this section. One last question, first crush?"

Kenny would swear Kyle was writing a novel on his life story at this point.

He really was tempted to find a meat grinder for that notebook that seemed to dictate all their interactions lately. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that the stupid flimsy thing was helping Kyle keep an emotional hold on it all.

Right, onto the question at hand, Kenny squinted his face in concentration, "That's... a hard one."

Kyle looked up at him in surprise, "Why?"

Kenny tried to piece together his childhood years, obsessions with boobs, short-lived relationships, affectionate feelings, into some form of a chronological order and found himself at a loss.

He shrugged helplessly, "It's all a bit of a jumble. I know I liked some people before my first girlfriend... _really_ had a thing for Bebe when she first started developing. Hmmm... I mean there was a really hot teacher when we were in elementary school? Wait, was there anyone before that..."

Kyle held up a hand, "I get it, no need to go further."

Kenny offered an apologetic smile, "I liked a lot of people quickly, most of it was pretty short-lived."

That inspired a thoughtful look, "So would you consider yourself a monogamous person or are you polygamous?"

There was a pause as Kenny digested the question, one of many Kyle had managed to toss at him casually that threw him for a loop. A great example of information being jotted into that novel that Kyle hadn't been privy to previous to his memory loss.

Kenny didn't really have the heart to tell him that though.

"Honestly?" Kenny shrugged, "I've never given it much thought. I've never cheated on anyone but I've also never dated anyone seriously enough that it would have mattered if I did."

Kyle jotted down the information with a disappointed posture. Not for the first time, Kenny wondered what he hoped to gain with these questions.

Did he hope some bit of information would just click and his memories would return? Or was he trying to build up the relationship from through this? Was he doing it for himself, as Kenny hoped, or was it in some strange way him trying to make up for and blaming himself for the memory loss?

Kyle had another question on his tongue that was causing him hesitation. Kenny was sure he wouldn't like it but... he gave an inviting smile, the one he knew made people open up to him more.

The smile did it's job and the question was on the table, "Have you been serious about anyone? I mean, I know you said you haven't been in a serious relationship, but like, have you wanted to?"

Why were these questions always so hard to evade without outright lying? What was safe to say without saying too much?

Kenny hummed in what he hoped was a nonchalant way, "Once or twice."

"Oh? With who? When?"

Damnit, Kyle. Kenny wanted to hold the kid upside down until all of these uncomfortable questions poured out of his head. He had to know this wasn't information he was privy to previously. Well, actually he didn't, that was the issue.

Kenny caved.

"Once in elementary school and once in middle school. The first time I stood a chance at a casual relationship but," he gestured to himself with the smile of joking contempt he reserved for himself, "no one really wants a serious relationship with a bad boy like me."

He was playing it off as a joke but Kyle's forehead crinkled with concern, "The second one?"

Damn, he was really hoping the self-depreciating joke would distract him. Kyle _hated_ jokes like that. Could go on whole tirades. Why was he so focused on this?

"Uhh... the second one I never stood a chance in hell." he laughed but it came out forced, "I mean, I know I'm gorgeous, but for the prize I'd been eyeing I would've needed to be a completely different person."

"How so?"

 _Oh my god Kyle_. Kenny had never wished he could burn the damn books more.

It's fine, he reminded himself that since Kyle didn't remember anything the things he said were unlikely to reveal anything.

He hoped.

"Okay, so I'm a bit of an asshole," Kyle snorted in agreement, ouch, "And this other person could honestly be an even bigger asshole--"

Kyle cut him off in terror, "--it's not the fattass, is it?!"

Kenny choked on his own breath, "Holyfuck, Kyle, are you trying to say the only bigger asshole in town than me is fucking Cartman?! No! Of fucking course it wasn't Cartman, oh my god. I can't believe you thought that, you giant asshole."

Kyle flushed, embarrassed, and Kenny felt bad for using names. It was an unspoken rule to use descriptions of people instead of names. "Sorry, I just--when I hear big asshole only one person comes to mind."

He couldn't help a snorted laugh, "Okay, fair enough."

At least the distraction was strong enough that Kyle probably forgot abou--

"Sorry I cut you off, continue."

 _Dangit Kyle_.

It was now an undisputed determination within Kenny to come up with a brand new insult just to describe when Kyle was being so---so--- _Kyle_.

Kenny sighed, "Okay, so this bigger--but not the biggest--asshole is smart. Like book smart." crap, that might be too much information, there weren't too many smarties in South Park... Kenny soldered on regardless, hoping that detail didn't interest Kyle so much, "But this ass can be people dumb. Especially with communication."

Kyle nodded, writing things down dutifully.

"Well, so they started confiding in me on some stuff because, well, I'm still not totally sure why, and after awhile I guess I just really liked being depended on that way? I have okay interpersonal skills," an understatement that he was well aware of, "And it was nice to stretch those skills for someone else I guess."

Kyle had stopped writing and Kenny froze for a moment, wondering if he'd somehow said too much. He couldn't have, it was so vague, and Kyle didn't remember so--

"You haven't said why you didn't stand a chance yet though." Kyle wasn't looking up from his page, Kenny figured he was spell-checking or whatever he did when he stared down like that, "I mean, sounds like the two of you had a good thing going?"

Kenny laughed, a real one, bitter and humorous. Real laughter wasn't always happy.

"Think of it like this, you and--" how the hell did Kyle talk about Stan? "--pinches his nose a lot have a great relationship, right?"

Kyle nodded, not quite understanding the connection.

"Does that mean you like each other romantically?"

Kenny enjoyed some more giggles at the disgust and understanding twisting on Kyle's face and knew he'd made his point.

"So, they liked you but just not romantically."

"Pretty much sums it up!" Kenny chirped.

His interviewer bit his bottom lip in thought and asked one more question that Kenny would quite happily have jumped inside a meat grinder himself rather than answer.

"Do you still feel that way about them?"

Kenny prided himself in his poker face. He _loved_ his poker face. The charming and smarmy smile had gotten him out of more situations than he could count. The heavy and solid line had supported a mysterious superhero persona.

He knew that the strained smile that adorned his face was distinctly _not_ his usual seamless schooled expression.

His laugh was also stiff, "Haven't given it much thought."

The outright lie was a bad move. Half-truths were easier to make sincere sounding. Damnit Kyle.

He shrugged and begged his smile to ease into a more believable one, "It's been a long time though."

Kyle, mercifully, finally concluded the line of questioning.

\--

Tiffany had just _kissed_ the Wintersmith. What was going to happen? Would the other witches come to help? Would summer come back?

These were all questions reeling in David's head as he eyed his book longingly from it's place across the room. Kyle was curled up on his bed flailing, ranting, and throwing himself a full blown pity party.

David had yet to even extract an explanation from the boy. He'd just barged in (let in by his parents, he needed to maybe inform them to stop letting Kyle in, he just wanted to finish one stupid fantasy novel, was that too much to ask?) and immediately dived for the comfort of throwing a fit.

David deserved an award for not kicking him out then and there. He swore he would get vengeance upon his friend when shit calmed down.

In the meantime...

"Okay, seriously Kyle, either explain yourself or get lost."

Kyle groaned into the mattress.

"10, 9, 8..."

Bright eyes plopped up filled with frustration and Kyle finally spoke his first semi-reasonable sentence.

"He likes someone."

David wasn't going to pretend he knew what the hell Kyle was talking about. The disturbed boy started gesturing at his abandoned backpack and groaned again.

Backpack? David rolled his eyes but peeked inside.

Ah, the Kenny notebook.

Oh he should have guessed that this was a Kenny fit. He'd gotten used to the blissful peace-filled days where he didn't have to deal with a Kenny fit. Why, oh why, didn't Kyle talk to Stan or literally anyone else about this stuff?

He knew why. Stan would have already kicked him out. Great guy but dude had very little patience for bullshit. David respected that.

He wished he had less patience for bullshit.

"He always likes someone, didn't--" urgh, he'd never get used to this, "blue hat, nose pincher explain that in unnecessary detail last time?"

Oh, he _still_ resented Marsh for that. Read the room, dimwit.

Kyle flailed.

"N-not like that. Like, he like-likes someone. There's someone that--" Kyle stifled his own sentence in a pillow.

Now David was confused, last he checked McCormick wasn't involved with anyone, "So he got serious about a fling or something?"

"Nooo..." lord, save him from friends and grant him patience, because he was not missing the return of summer to hear Kyle moan like a giant toddler, "I mean... I asked him... he's just really taken with this person, you know? Like talking about it changed his mannerisms. Like how he gets when he talks about his sister--" David frowned, "--but different."

"Different how?"

"Just... different..." Kyle sighed, "I've never seen him talk like that. He's dodged my questions before but he's never been so _obvious_ about it. It was like he couldn't keep his composure. Hell, he managed to make an insult sound like a pet-name? How does he do that? That shouldn't be possible?"

David gave in and decided it was time to just wait out hurricane Kyle. This was going to go on for awhile.

"Maybe it's because he's so good with voices? How does he do that either? What if it was all an act? No, he definitely lost his composure but like, what if--"

He tried not to eye his novel too longingly.

\--

It was a relief to know that the disease didn't seem to be progressing any further. Kyle liked to think it was his own doing.

Him and his army of notebooks.

He still eyed crowds with suspicion and asked about every single unfamiliar face, just to be sure. He had to be _sure_.

No one had fallen into the category of forgotten since his orange friend.

That was something that troubled him a lot actually. Why Kenny--the orange boy? His earliest memories of the signs of his condition were with near strangers.

He hadn't forgotten--confused--childhood friends name until he'd mixed up nearly everyone else's. His brothers was the last to go completely.

But when it came to the other part of his condition, the part his doctors still couldn't quite explain but clearly had fears about, watching him for a myriad of other symptoms that had yet to appear, it had started with a close friend.

Not his closest person or someone he loved the most. Just someone that really _mattered_ to him.

He didn't need restaurant friend or childhood friend or even the notebook of memories he didn't recall to tell him that. Being around the orange boy made him happy in a way he couldn't describe without getting flustered.

Romantic or platonic, memories or not, he could still feel a fondness for the guy that could put a literal skip in his step if he wasn't careful.

He remembered, vaguely, something in his biology class that talked about memory and emotion being in different parts of the brain. He figured that must be the case here.

He could forget every precious memory and lose all of his neatly stacked notebooks, but he wasn't going to forget the emotion. It was there whether he liked it or not.

It wasn't totally decided whether that was a comforting thought or not. It meant that even if the worst occurred and he lost more people, he'd still have something that the condition was unlikely to take from him.

It also meant these confusing and uncomfortably strong feelings were here to stay.

Speak of the devil; orange boy was waving to him from across the road. Kyle seriously debated changing the description to demon boy but then he remembered Pip—Christophe—Karen—the literal son of the devil that had attended school with them, and decided he’d have to reserve the description for the grim boy.

It happened faster than he could understand.

One moment orange boy was crossing the road and he was grumbling internally about his inability to hold down a name.

One moment later a literal piano dropped from the sky and there was so much blood, oh god. The sounds around him dulled. He couldn’t understand what he was looking at.

This couldn’t be happening. No. This couldn’t be happening.

A musical note struck the air with a wet sound as the massive heap settled.

“ _Kenny_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ended up finishing this chapter faster than anticipated XD thank you for the reviews! feedback always helps me work faster :3
> 
> I hope this chapter was an enjoyable read<3


	3. Chapter 3

Audiobooks.

He was definitely going to invest in audiobooks. He’d always liked the feel of pages under his fingers but this was getting ridiculous.

There was a big part of him that debated ignoring the call, pretending his phone had been on silent, let the non-emergency run its course.

He was mere  _ pages _ from finishing the book.

His mother had raised him better than that. He grumbled to himself but put down the book and answered the phone.

Blind panic met him on the line but it wasn’t Kyle’s. David found himself far more concerned for the situation at hand.

“He forgot him, again, Kyle forgot Kenny again!”

He couldn’t even consider it his worst fear coming true. No one had anticipated this. There were those who were watching Kyle carefully for other physical symptoms of his condition and then there were those who were waiting to be forgotten with trepidation. The thought of Kenny getting the shaft twice hadn’t even gone through anyone’s mind.

Maybe Kyle had thought of it. Maybe that’s why he had written a damn biography on the boy.

David didn’t know but he knew that whatever this development meant, it could only be bad news for his friend. The more Kyle’s condition progressed, the more likely it was that he couldn’t be helped.

And through the combination of distress, concern for his friend, his own building panic, and the foreboding confirmation of the unknown, a horrifying thought wiggled its way through David’s mind.

Did this mean he was going to go through the _ I think I have a crush on Kenny _ talk for a  _ third  _ time?

\--

_ "I don't know about this, Eric..." he fiddled with his buttons just to find a place for his hands, "I mean, golly, what if it works?" _

_ The other boy snorted from his position over the chemicals, "Don't worry so much! Now pass me the, uh," he referenced the strange book again, "dried root? What the fuck. Whatever, just pass me some." _

_ Butters complied, "Should we really be using the school for this...?I don't want any trouble..." _

_ The scoff he was met with increased his confidence somewhat. Surely a person that could scoff like that had to know what they were doing. _

_ "No worries, all we have to do is destroy the evidence later." _

Butters Stotch chewed his lip until he tasted blood, panicking somewhat and double-triple checking that he hadn't just accidentally bitten off his own lip.

Eric was right, it was just a silly prank, there was no way that they were responsible for this.

He didn't look at the book that Eric had left in his care while on the cruise.

"It's... not our fault, no way."

\--

_ Favorite color: green. Seems weird to me because the guy only ever seems to wear orange. _

He could do this. Breathe. It's important to remember to breathe. Steady in, steady out, repeat.

_ Bad sense of humor, but in a cute way. Does crazy shit with his voice. _

It was just a page with information he needed. Information to fill the gaps he couldn't remember losing. He should be grateful, proud, that his past self was so detailed.

_ Okay, maybe he's actually a bit funny. _

A ratty, rushed, and unfamiliar handwriting took over the page, he could make out words like 'handsome', 'sex', and 'women' but the rest was too blurry.

He blinked his eyes, hoping to dissuade them from their current course of action, in defiance they fogged up further behind a cloud of liquid.

No. He had to read this. It was important. What was the point of making these if not for this exact moment.

He tried not to look at the dated corners.

He tried.

He knew he had to, he was supposed to, that was why he'd meticulously taken them down.

He knew himself even if he didn't know his own mind. He knew why he would do things. How he would write things.

He pushed on.

_ Doesn't seem-- _ he pushed glared sightlessly, urging his eyes to stop-- _ comfortable talking about his family. Loves his sister. Will need further investigation. _

One more page completed. How many more to go. His own writing was sloppy with excitement. He'd written this carelessly.

Finish the page, look at the corner.

He forced his eyes to the date, reminding himself of the amount of days it indicated.

Barely a week.

The lump that he swallowed sat heavily in his stomach but he could do this. He  _ had _ to do this.

It didn't make sense. None of it did. How could any form of brain disease or damage be so specific?

He remembered his week. He remembered details. Just none of the scenes that occurred in the book.

The sound of his teeth grinding accompanied the turn of another page.

Breathe. In. Out. He wasn't losing his mind. He'd been smart.

How long before he lost everyone.

_ I think I like him. Wait, I know I like him. David told me. Jerk kept it from me to avoid 'stressing me out'. Jerk. _

He tasted blood and belatedly he realized he'd been biting his inner cheek.

Keep reading. Ignore the blur.

_ Today orange boy-- _

The words were blotted by a blur of wet.

He breathed heavily. He could do this. He had to do this.

Another blur struck the page.

His vision was obscured by the meaningless liquid.

He had to be strong and—and—

A choked sound fought its way out and it led the way for countless others.

The pages shook--or was it his hands--and he couldn't  _ see _ \--

It was too much.

He accepted the next broken sob and squeezed his eyes shut.

It was too much.

\--

Well this didn't make any fucking sense. Doctors weren't the most useful on the best of days in Kenny's experience, but they seemed to work just fine for most people.

Kyle's doctors were bewildered. None of their initial diagnosis applied to Kyle's current symptoms.

Nobody could think of even a single reason as to why he would forget Kenny twice in row.

Kenny could think of a reason but his was one that didn’t translate well into the field of medicine. It was a thought he couldn’t quite get out of his mind. If Kyle’s memories were responding to the memory altering hocus-pocus that accompanied his deaths…

The first time it happened, it had been shortly after one of his deaths as well. Once was likely a coincidence...but twice was a pattern so far as Kenny was concerned.

Unfortunately, that led to all sorts of stomach churning possibilities.

Kenny tried to lay out the options in a manageable way. None of them looked good to him.

He divided it into sections:  _ Kyle’s disorder is a medical condition _ and  _ Kyle’s disorder is caused by something supernatural _ .

He contemplated dying real quick to consult Satan about it. It ran the risk of exasperating Kyle’s condition though and he wasn’t going to tempt fate. Not when it was Kyle’s fate.

The first option in both sections was clear and Kenny hated it:

  1. My death is the cause.



 

It made sense if he thought about it. How many times had Kyle’s memories been altered to understand Kenny’s weird and unusual departures from this world and subsequent returns? The issue with this option was that half the town should also be suffering from Kyle’s symptoms.

_ Unless… _

 

Unless Kyle had the condition already and the magical mumbo-jumbo that played with memories was just further mixing shit up in his brain.

The solution was simple if this was actually the cause. Kenny wrote it down nonetheless. It was important, he felt, to remind himself that this was not optional.

If he was truly the cause of Kyle’s problem, he would have to remove himself from the equation. It wasn’t optional.

It was Important.

He still struggled to swallow that reality.

There was of course the potential that the two conditions were somehow unrelated. Kenny wasn’t really sure what to make of that yet. Or what to do if it really was a completely medical condition.

It was a matter of finding solutions. Sadly he wasn’t terribly great at that.

By the time his phone disrupted his train of thought Kenny’s brain felt bent in every angle it could possibly twist. He had a long list of potential causes and treatments  He had everything from alien induced black magic to early onset Alzheimers on the paper. It was a bit maddening.

It was awful, considering how important it was to find a solution, but Kenny was really grateful Stan called when he did.

“Sup, dude?”

The voice on the other end of the line sounded so tired, “Hey, Kenny… do you have time?”

Kenny nodded before he caught himself, worry edging in, Stan really sounded spent, “Yeah, what’s up?”

It was oddly silent as Stan picked his words, Kenny figured the guy needed it. This was probably something he would normally talk about with Butters or Kyle. Kyle wasn’t an option for obvious reasons and Butters had been dodgy as fuck lately.

“…It’s just a lot, you know?” Stan finally said, “I know that Kyle is still okay but it’s just… Kenny, am I losing my best friend? You know, for a while I really thought it was all going to be okay, after all, he had those stupid notebooks,“ He paused with a sigh, and Kenny understood. He had thought so too. “I thought it might be over, that it had gotten as bad as it gets, and just—what if he just keeps forgetting you? What if he forgets everyone? It’s just---it’s tearing him apart, dude. I don’t know if he can handle this much longer. I—I don’t know if  _ I _ can…”

The entire conversation was a special brand of Stan Marsh insensitive and selfish but Kenny couldn’t bring himself to be mad. Much.

In some ways Stan had already lost his best friend. He couldn’t hang out with Kyle the way they’d used to. There were complications now. Things had  _ changed _ .

Stan was the sort that craved stability. He didn’t want things to change drastically. He didn’t want the boat rocked. He wanted things to stay the same.

Hell, Stan insisted they remain friends with Cartman for these very reasons.

Kyle’s condition just went ahead and  _ changed  _ shit. There was no stopping or denying it.

“—I spent all that time and money getting Cartman out of town so that the asshole wouldn’t antagonize Kyle further and just—it just all doesn’t even seem worth it? No matter what I do, Kyle seems to be getting worse? And Butters was helping me with the Cartman thing but then immediately after we got Cartman out of town he started avoiding me. I don’t know what I did or even if I even did anything at all.”

Stan was spiraling and beginning to repeat himself in places. Kenny listened intently though. He’d never minded listening.

The situation with Butters did sound strange, though. Kid was usually an emotional pillar for Stan when shit hit the fan.

Except—when Butters felt guilty about something.

Hmm.

Kenny looked at his long list of leads that were mostly all so fantastical in nature that any sort of formal investigation would challenging, to put it kindly.

Cartman had let himself be run out of town.

Butters felt guilty about something.

Worth looking into at least.

He let Stan keep talking until the guy finally found some comfort. He was the ranting sort but he did need someone to listen to him from to time.

With Butters and Kyle M.I.A., Kenny was more than willing to fill that gap. Stan was important.

\--

The old Sodosopa was a great place to hide things.

Butters couldn’t handle it. The book seemed like it was taunting him and the whole thing was just too  _ creepy _ .

He wanted to throw it to the bottom of Stark’s Pond. Lost. Never to be seen again. 

It was all too much. Why wasn’t Eric here? Why had he helped send his good friend away like that? It wasn’t right, it really wasn’t. And Eric would know what to do about this darn book. Eric was so confident about these things.

There were things buried in the Marsh’s backyard that no one had found to this day. And even if it was found, most people would assume it was just Randy Marsh. Goodness knows that man had done worse.

This was just such an awful responsibility. Everytime he looked at that goshdarn awful book he thought about poor Kyle and he couldn’t help but just  _ wonder _ .

What if he an’ Eric  _ had _ done something awful? Sure, nothing had happened immediately and it wasn’t the  _ intended _ goal but…

Magic was supposed to be like that, wasn’t it? All wonky and tricky?

He couldn’t think of anywhere to hide it that didn’t mean bringing it out of his home and risking getting caught with it.

He couldn’t even talk to poor Stan anymore. The only topic was Kyle, Kyle, Kyle and Butters just kept looking at that awful book and  _ wondering _ .

His father's angry voice broke his concentration and he rushed to attention.

Hurriedly he shoved the book under some papers. It wasn’t his usual hiding spot he had at the back of his closet, but leaving his father waiting just wasn’t an option.

\--

A stranger is smiling at him. It’s the image of the boy he’d stared at while pouring over passage after passage in his meticulously written notebooks.

A stranger looks so nervous and kind. Hesitant and soft.

He knows this boy. He’s supposed to know this boy.

He knows he’s supposed to be enamored with him to. The thud of his own heartbeat confirms it. Or is his heart beating just because he logically knows that it is supposed to?

It’s confusing.

It’s scary.

The stranger’s voice is smooth and just a pitch deeper than he was expecting. He can’t help but find it endearing.

“Hey, I’m Ke—orange boy. Nice to meet you again, dude.” He holds out a gloved hand with such a casual grace that Kyle’s caught by it again.

Yes. It’s confirmed. This is the type of person he’s attracted to. Loose and casual. Thoughtful in his own way. Kind. Those eyes are kind and very blue.

He would love to know this person better.

It just breaks him inside that he  _ does _ . That he  _ should _ . That this was all  _ wrong _ .

This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.

He swallows a lump in his throat. He can’t leave the stranger waiting, and so he holds out his own hand to clasp in a firm handshake.

He likes the way the blonds fingers curl around his own, the way those blue-bell eyes soften, the slightly relieved smile that slides in to replace the nervous one.

What a beautiful person.

“I’m—“ he stops himself from an introduction, barely, it would be too much, “—happy to meet you again, too.”

He wants to apologize but it would feel so empty. 

Apologies were supposed to  _ mean something. _ Represent a change that one had committed to. What was the purpose of apologizing for what couldn’t be changed?

Kenny’s lips quirked in a certain way—he reminded himself not to think of names, he was always wrong, always wrong—and it felt like he’d been read cover to cover.

The voice was so soft, assuring, Kyle felt his heart pitter-patter into a staccato at the sound, “You don’t need to apologize, Kyle. No point, right?”

It should be mortifying being read so thoughoghly. Normally it would be.

It should be creepy, knowing that he’d divulged such beliefs to this person and had no recollection of it.

It was everything about the person in front of him that made it special.

This stranger was special. He got under his skin.

He knew exactly why the past him had felt so compelled to write a damn biography on him.

The sudden knowledge hurt him in a way that even the warmth of their clasped hands couldn't cure.

His own mind had robbed him of something that he wanted so badly that it  _ hurt _ .

\--

Enough was enough.

Butters couldn’t avoid him forever. If he was going to lose one friend, he most certainly wasn’t going to lose two.

Not that he’d lost Kyle just—urgh—it was complicated.

Luckily, he’d long since figured out how to get Mr. Stotch to let him in. The man was a total creep and treated his son like shit but fell for flattery like no one Stan had ever met.

He’d be embarrassed for Butters if his own father wasn’t the same way.

Why did all adults suck so much anyway? He hoped to god he never became this shitty after hitting eighteen.

Butters jumped when he noticed him, he hadn’t been expecting him to come.

“S-Stan! What brings you all the way out here?”

“Butters, we live in the same neighborhood.”

“Ri—right! I just meant, aw gee, I’m just awful surprised is all. I’ve never had a visit from you before. Is something wrong?”

There was something extra anxious about the way Butters was acting. A weird way his eyes kept darting to his desk like there was something there that he didn’t want to be seen. Butters had a terrible poker face.

Stan debated strongly whether he even  _ wanted _ to know what it was that Butters was hiding. On one hand it could reveal what the hell had made his friend ignore him like an asshole, on the other hand it was definitely dumb and lame.

Also the petty part of him wanted Butters to trust him enough to just  _ tell him _ what the fuck was going on. It was just annoying that Butters wouldn’t  _ trust _ him and—

Stan glared sourly at the fidgeting boy. He would get answers damnit.

“ _ Nothing _ is wrong, Butters. I just thought I’d come see my  _ friend _ .”

He hadn’t meant to sound quite that biting.

He felt bad for the tone almost instantly from the look on Butters soft face, but he couldn’t quite back down that easily.

He was hurt.

“Aw, golly, that’s very kind of you, Stan. I’m just a bit busy today thou—“

“Oh, you’re too busy to see me?”

Damnit. Why was he so terrible at reigning in his temper? Could he really call Kyle the hot-headed one when he pulled shit like this.

“Aw, hamburgers, that’s not what I meant! It’s just—“ Butters looked a bit defeated, Stan bit back an apology on the edge of his tongue. He hated being mean to Butters. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

It was the most welcoming he’d gotten since arriving. It was kind of surreal frm Butters. The boy was always so welcoming and kind. Stan’s mind went back to the desk that made Butters so anxious.

What could possibly be there that was curbing Butters normally impossibly kind manners?

He still wanted Butters to broach the subject himself though. It was a pride thing.

He looked at the desk blatantly, “So what’s been keeping you so busy?”

He’d swear Butters shot a foot in the air.

And finally the boy broke.

Large and impossibly blue eyes gushed with tears so quickly that Stan felt some whiplash. He felt complete shame for his shitty behavior causing the break until Butters words reached him.

“It was all Eric’s idea! I mean—I didn’t think it would work—and now poor Kyle—I don’t know what to do and—“ Butters hiccupped uncontrollably, tears gushing out, “I never meant for this to happen.”

Stan was on his feet for the desk without any hesitation, thoughts of comforting the sobbing boy lost in the implications behind the words, “What do you mean poor Kyle?!” he asked hurriedly,  _ hopefully _ , as he searched through the papers and— _ there! _ A book.

Because if this was just Cartman’s usual bullshit they could fix it.

Because if this was caused by something dumb and supernatural maybe—

They could just return to normal.

\--

There was some defeat in Stan’s tone over the receiver, Kenny was used to hearing it by now.

“Butter’s says he and Cartman looked up a spell in some old book to make everyone in town forget Kyle.”

It was a long-shot. If it was in fact the fatass at fault they had certainly fucked up the spell in a major way.

“The timeline sort of fits but no one is really sure when exactly Kyle started showing symptoms and.. I know you told me to tell you anything I found out but, I looked through this book, I really wanted it to be the reason but it just looks like a dumb gimmick book for kids.”

Kenny would have to take a look at the book in question later to be sure.

“Look… let’s, not tell Kyle for now.” Stan’s voice was strained, “If we’re wrong it could hurt him a lot more.”

It clearly had hurt Stan.

So much hope that this was just one of their many shenanigans that had an answer. It had to hurt to realize that Butters was probably just blaming himself over literally nothing.

Kenny would still look into it.

Stan wasn’t able to stay on the phone much longer. The sounds of Butters tears in the background were definitely what pulled him away.

How unusual for Stan to make Butters cry. Everyone was so strained.

Kenny was strained too.

He couldn’t deny he was feeling it too.

He missed just messing around with Kyle.

The rants, the deep explorations on topics that Kenny had no previous knowledge of. The cocky grins, the optimism the refused to bend with the fire of Broflovski passion. The bleeding heart that cared for people. The harsh and judgemental righteous anger.

Kyle.

Kyle who could smile and make the world okay. Who could frown and take a country down with him.

Kyle.

The boy who interrogated him on endless details. Who was too smart and too silly for his own good. Who could never let poor David finish a good book. Who never once let Cartman get away with bullshit and who complimented all of Stan’s weaknesses with strengths.

Kyle.

He’d never really gotten over that middle school crush, had he? It was so much worse now.

He had to figure out if it really was that dumb spell. He didn’t know jackshit about the supernatural.

Although…he did know someone that did. And he had a free pass to see the guy anytime he’d like.

It was a cruel thing.

He swallowed thickly and texted Stan and David:

_ I have reason to believe Kyle is going to forget about me again today. Don’t panic. I’m getting to the bottom of this. _

It was with such practiced ease at this point.

There were so many individuals on the other side that would know.

There were so many that owed him favors.

There were things, terrible things, he could do to pay for information. To bring an end to this.

One way or another, he would fix this by the time he’d returned. If it was medical he’d just have to find a way to make it worth someone’s while.

This couldn’t go on.

\--

Three days after receiving Kenny’s disturbing text, Kyle called him Stan.

True to his word, Kyle had forgotten about Kenny and the other boy was nowhere to be found to bring up the questions.

David and Stan had devised a concentrated effort to keep Kyle away from his notebooks until they heard from Kenny again. Whatever Kenny was up to they didn’t want to deal with Kyle freaking out about a boy he’d forgotten that couldn’t be found.

Kyle called him Stan.

It was on accident. Like one of the many times he’d accidentally blurted out a name like Leslie or Clyde at him.

But it was Stan.

Something in Kyle’s face had lit up when he said the name too.

“That is your name. Holy fucking shit dude. That’s  _ your name _ .”

They didn’t dare test it on other people, not yet, neither of them were willing to let hope be dashed so quickly. What was important was they were Stan and Kyle again for just a brief moment of time. Kyle knew his name and the tension holding his universe down lifted in a way that Stan hadn’t seen in ages.

It was important.

Kyle said his name every other sentence.

“Right, Stan?!”

“Look at this, Stan!”

“Stan, don’t be an idiot.”

They were both waiting for him to fuck up. To confuse it.

Tears painted both their cheeks at the anticipation. They felt like it was inevitable.

By the time they finally decided to take a trip to the hospital, Kyle had sobbed into Ike’s shoulder for a good twenty minutes and even the stoic child had teared up a bit hearing the broken call of  _ Ike _ rip out of his brothers throat.

The doctors called it miraculous. The damage to his brain had receded in ways that were unprecedented. They insisted that more observation would be necessary and that Kyle should keep up his therapy.

David was next on the list of people Kyle  _ had _ to talk to. To apologize. To thank him.

There was a long list. It was also a short list.

It was all too good to be true.

They were in the backseat of Mrs. Broflovski’s car, being far roudier than the mother would normally allow, when Stan said the words that ruined it all.

“ _ Dude _ , Kenny is going to be  _ stoked _ when he hears!”

There was a pregnant pause that Stan wished he hadn’t ever lived to experience before.

The puzzlement that fogged Kyle’s expression, the tick of horror that was soon to come. Stan hated it.

He hated it all.

“Who’s Kenny?”

\--

He was done with his book. Finally.

It was a good book.

Tiffany had brought back summer and learned an important lesson about the natural order of things. The feegles had done what they do best and Roland had been so much less of a tit than he’d been in the first book.

It was a good book.

That didn’t seem to matter at the moment.

Everything had more or less returned to normal.

Kyle’s condition had seemingly disappeared overnight and Kenny had returned from wherever he’d disappeared to.

He hadn’t seemed surprised at all to learn that Kyle didn’t remember him.

He made a joke about a deal with the devil and laughed away all questions.

It was decided by everyone, Kyle included, that it was better not to push the issue for now.

Kyle was terrified that if he attempted remembering some stranger then he’d forget all the names that had come back to him. He hadn’t looked at the notebooks and he hadn’t talked to Kenny.

Kenny also agreed that it was for the best.

Stan wouldn’t fight either of them on it.

Kyle had no idea what the hell the stupid orange boy meant to him.

Truthfully, David hadn’t really meant his half-hearted promise, but it was a promise.

This counted as next time, didn’t it?

Putting down the stupid book,—it was stupid in comparison to everything, wasn’t it?— he felt awful for wanting to prioritize it over his friends well-being, no matter how engaging the story was. He picked up his cell and selected the familiar contact.

“Hey Kyle… so, you probably don’t remember, but you kind of made me promise I’d remind you of something if you forgot it again.”

\--

“Hey.”

The boy in orange started at his voice. He probably thought he was so slick hiding in this corner of the school to eat his lunch. Thought he would never run into Kyle.

Well, too bad. Kyle had spies everywhere.

Okay, he had Butters, Stan, and David. But that was more than enough to track down a literal blob of orange who probably didn’t know the meaning of the word inconspicuous.

“Ky-Kyle?” Kenny—as he’d been informed was the name—choked out, eyes seeming to dart for an escape route.

Clearly this guy didn’t know Kyle as well as David had insisted if he thought he could escape a Broflovski.

Kyle used what he knew was his intimidating height to his advantage, further cornering the target.

Kenny was bright enough to recognize his loss and looked at him sheepishly.

“What’s up?”

It was a terrible attempt at nonchalance.

Kyle knew he was talking to a stranger. He also knew he was talking to someone he  _ knew _ .

And in his heart knew he was talking to someone he cared about.

“We have to talk.”

“Oh, okay.” Kenny looked entirely nonplussed, equal measures of confusion and unease. “What about?”

This was the part Kyle was a little less confident about.

He was grateful that Kenny had somehow found a spot without any witnesses. This would probably explode in his face.

It was also just so terribly uncomfortable.

But he’d read his journals. Read every page after David talked to him, and he’d talked to Stan and he… he couldn’t let shit stand. It wasn’t in him. He wasn’t the sort of person that could just let shit like this go.

He’d gotten his mind back but there was still a missing spot and he—he couldn’t just close his eyes and pretend it wasn’t an issue.

“You.” Kyle said, hoping the confidence in his voice didn’t match the lack thereof in his mind.

“Me?” Kenny had shrunk away a little and Kyle wasn’t sure if he found it endearing or upsetting.

He decided he would deal with whatever he felt later. Logically speaking letting emotions get to him right now would be counter-productive.

“I don’t remember you.” Kyle hated how much of his unease had slipped into his speech, “And I’ve forgotten you on at least three separate occasions according to Stan.”

Kenny shrugged, like he’d been asked to explain the issue.

“And—this is going to sound nuts but I’m not going to keep doing these dumb circles.”

Something died inside those blue eyes and Kyle wondered vaguely how his orange boy thought this was going to end.

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” Kyle snapped, more frustrated at his own inability to get to the point than the other boy, “Just—let me finish okay.”

Kenny nodded, puzzled.

It was now or never.

“Look. I don’t remember when. And don’t remember how or why...” he paused. “Do you know how in bio they say that different parts of the brain are responsible for different shit?” Kyle looked to Kenny, and his blank look was telling, “Well they are. And the emotions side of the brain is a whole different sector than the memory side.”

“Is there a reason you’re helping me study for my bio quiz?” there was some snark in the tone. Kyle tried not to raise to the bait.

“I said let me finish, damnit.”

Kenny raised his hands in defense, “Alright, alright, meant no harm dude.”

Kyle breathed deeply, where was he even? Why was this so freaking hard?

He looked at Kenny.

Kenny McCormick. Wears orange all the time. Cute button nose and an adorable smile that takes over his whole face. Kenny McCormick, the guy who he wrote page after page about.

Kenny McCormick. The cute boy trying to hide his current discomfort with humor and who couldn’t grasp what Kyle was getting at. Had dirty blond hair that gleamed in the light and baby blues that shone in an adorable way.

No, it wasn’t all that hard, was it?

“I like you.”

Kenny didn’t seem to comprehend his meaning at all, “Uh, I like you too? Is this about still wanting to be friends?”

Kyle invaded what he was sure was the guys personal space bubble to level him with his fiercest look.

“I. Like. You.”

The ocean of blue widened and Kenny’s mouth dropped open with a simple “Oh.”

The world held still, for just a moment. Kyle was okay with that. His immune system was currently throwing out every mayday signal it could. He’d just confessed. To a stranger.  _ Aggressively _ . What was actually  _ wrong _ with him?!

His pulse radiated the emotion through every corner of his body, his toes curled with anxiety, his shins ached with fear, his fingers froze, and his elbows tingled. This was not a good confession. This was a fucking  _ terrible _ confession.

Kenny McCormick most likely had only platonic feelings for him. This was going to be incredibly awkward from now on.

Kenny was really cute though, staring at him with searching eyes and a slight gape.

“Oh.” Kenny repeated, red rushing to his face so suddenly it ended the silence more than the noise had.

“I’m asking you out.”

“Oh.” 

 

Kyle kind of wondered if the guy had other words in his vocabulary.

“What’s your answer?” he couldn’t back down. Not now. Besides, it had to be a good sign that Kenny was blushing so furiously, right?

Right?

“I—um---what?”

Kyle fixed him with his no-nonsense look, hoping that this Kenny fellow was one of the few people it worked on, “I’m asking you out. Will you go out with me.”

It didn’t sound like a question even to his own ears.

“I—“ Kenny’s eyes darted away for the first time since the confession, hurt flashing his features, “I can’t.”

Kyle’s line formed a thin line. Rejection was something he’d been prepared for but something about this seemed less like rejection and more like shit being hidden from him.

Yeah, he didn’t have patience for that when this guy was making his damn elbows tingle. How was that even a thing?

“Why not?” He sounded like a petulant child.

Kenny wasn’t looking at him, “I—you—“ he gulped, “You’re… you’re going to forget me again.”

Wait, what.

“How do you know that?” Kyle demanded.

“I—I just do okay! Besides, it wouldn’t work and I—“ Kenny looked back at him and his face was a mess of emotion, “I don’t like you back.”

Kyle couldn’t help it.

He laughed.

He laughed  _ hard _ .

Despite not knowing this guy. Despite the ridiculousness of this stupid situation he couldn’t help it.

It was such a terrible lie.

Literal tears were making their way down orange boys cheeks even as he said it. He had his lying voice on too, Kyle hadn’t the faintest clue how he recognized it but he  _ knew _ that Kenny McCormick used that voice when he lied. The boy was red in the face and crying and his voice even cracked and it was just the  _ worst _ lie that Kyle had ever heard in his whole damn life.

He finally showed some mercy and stopped laughing when he caught sight of the face again. There was almost a smile on his face and something almost fond in his eyes and oh god, this Kenny boy was as smitten as he was, wasn’t he?

He decided to chance it and close the distance between them.

The kiss was simple but it won a gasp from McCormick that was pleasant on the ears.

“I said I don’t like you.” Kenny protested when their lips were only an millimeter apart, voice a bit too breathy to be believable.

“You’re a bad liar.” Kyle returned, kissing him again, another peck.

Kenny’s eyes were full with liquid and Kyle wondered exactly how much this stranger had resolved himself to stay away, despite how much he clearly didn’t want to.

“You’re going to forget me again.”

Kyle kissed him again.

“So I’ll make more books.”

“You’re going to hurt—“ There was something raw in Kenny’s voice. Kyle wondered exactly how much of his previous condition had ripped at this poor boy. Kenny was the sort that didn’t like to see those he cared about in pain.

Kyle would put it on page one of his new Kenny compilation.

“I’ll hurt more if you don’t tell me how you really feel right now, asshole.”

He kissed his nose this time and finally the last of Kenny’s guard melted away.

Words apparently weren’t McCormick’s thing though because Kyle found himself pulled into a much, much deeper kiss in lieu of an answer.

And this moment alone, he hoped, would remain untouched in his mind.

 

All things come at a price though and his hopes would be entirely dashed.


End file.
